Canada's 1st Birthday
by DA4TheFunOfIt
Summary: It's July 1st, 1867. The Dominion of Canada is formed, which means Canada now has his own "bithday." He shares the good news with his brother, America, who disides that a "proper" celebration is in order.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

July 1, 1867:

"Almost got it…" America said to himself. He stood on tip-toe while he decorated. It was a busy time for him. Independence Day was coming up; his birthday! He had to be ready for big the day. His whole house, inside and out, was completely decked out in red, white, and blue. Star-spangled banners were everywhere. Deliveries of party food and gifts had been pouring in all day. The boxes were scattered all over the place. At the moment, America was standing on top of a huge ladder in his massive party room, putting up the finishing touch: red, white, and blue streamers that would hang down from a giant chandelier, and stretch out to the walls all around the large room. The streamers were so thick, that it was almost like the room was covered with a patriotic tent top, instead of a flat ceiling. America was struggling to get the final streamer to stick to the chandelier.

"Just a little more…" he whispered. Suddenly, the door to the great room flew open with a 'BANG!' A loud voice echoed around the room.

"ALFRED!"

"WHOA!"

America's concentration was broken, and he was knocked off balance by the shock of the noise. He felt the ladder under him shake. His arms few outwards in an attempt to regain his balance, but they got tangled in the web of streamers. The ladder tilted and slipped out from under his feet. It smashed into the floor like a felled tree. America was not far behind. He landed on the floor next to the ladder, pulling his precious streamers along with him. America's hands had instinctively grabbed for something to stop his fall, but of course the only thing they got a hold of were the surrounding streamers that his arms had become caught in. Great for decoration, but useless as life lines, the entire streamer mass was torn from place and brought down by America's weight. As he lay dazed and buried beneath a giant bundle of patriotic cloth, he could vaguely hear the shrieking of the voice that had caused his downfall.

"OH - SWEET - SUGAR - MAPLE - WHAT - HAVE - I - DONE?"

Quick footsteps were then heard. America groaned in pain as he tried to sit up. He could feel the streamers being pulled off of him.

"Alfred! Alfred, are you alright? I'm so, so sorry!

America recognized the voice, but barely. Its owner usually wielded it in a calmer and quieter style. Now it was loud with worry and running a mile a minute.

"Here, let me help you get up!"

America looked up briefly to see his living mirror image: his twin brother, Canada. Canada wrapped America's arm around his shoulders and lifted him up. America grunted in pain and annoyance. He pushed Canada off of him and tried to steady himself on his own.

"Cut it out! I can get up by myself!"

Normally, America would have been tickled pink to see his brother. However, at this moment he was extremely annoyed by the interruption, the fall, the pain, and the fact that results of his decorating genius now laid in a heap on the floor. As he untangled himself from the streamers, he took out his frustration by roughly refusing any kind of assistance the Canadian offered.

"Are you sure you're not hurt? You shouldn't be moving around so fast. What if you—"

"Shut up! I'm fine!"

Canada finally backed away.

"I-I'm sorry," his voice returned to its reserved tone. "I'm sorry for intruding like this. Please don't be mad. I can see you're busy, so I-I'll just come back some other time."

Canada turned for a quick retreat. He did not want to be around his brother if he was upset. He was surprised when America grabbed him by the back of his shirt.

"Wait," America said with a sigh. "Just calm down, will ya? I'm not mad." He rubbed his shoulder and groaned again as he spoke. "A little banged up, but not mad."

"I'm sorry."

America tried to shrug it off.

"Ah, don't worry about it. I've been through worse." He turned his attention to the pile of streamers on the floor. "Oh man! It took me all day to get those up."

"Sorry."

"Will you stop saying that?" America snapped as he bent down to gather up the mess.

"But I feel terrible!" Canada confessed. "This is all my fault. I knew I shouldn't have burst in like that, but I was so excited about—OOPH!"

America shoved a giant wad of streamers into his brother's arms.

"If you really feel that bad about it, you can help re-hang everything," he suggested as he put the ladder back in place.

"Oh, erm, sure," Canada stammered. "I could do that."

"Great!" America said and began rolling up his sleeves—trying to be positive about it all. "If I got them up once, I can do it again!" he grinned as he spoke. He relished challenges. "You can toss them up to me, ok?"

"A-alright."

Canada put the pile on the ground and held the ladder steady as America climbed with a few streamers over his shoulder. Once he was standing on the top of the ladder again, Canada bent down and started untangling the pile of streamers that his brother had left behind. He sat on the first step of the ladder to make sure it stayed still while he sorted out the mess. He could hear America high above him, humming something patriotic as he re-attached the decorations. Canada smiled. America always tried to act so cheerful. Still, Canada worried about his brother. He figured that America was probably overworking himself over his birthday this year. Not much time had passed since his brother's civil war, but America had been working almost none-stop trying to reunite his country. Preparing for his birthday would be especially important to America now because it was the one holiday that both the Northern and Southern States should be celebrating _together_. Canada wished that he could do something more to help his brother than put up streamers. Because Canada had always been the more mature and level-headed twin, he felt sort of responsible for his brother. He didn't like to see his reckless brother get hurt, yet he had never been able to do much more than worry about him from a distance.

Despite the fact that they lived so close together, the North American brothers didn't get to see each other often. Ever since America had rebelled, England had tried to discourage Canada from spending time with his twin. However, England's efforts to keep the brothers separated weren't exactly successful because America still came over to Canada's place whenever he felt like it. Canada wanted to respect his father figure's wishes, but even he had moments of weakness. Every now and then, when England was not around, Canada would sneak away for a visit with his brother. The visits between the two were always short, though. Put America and Canada together and it would not be long before they would be driving each other crazy. Yet for some reason, that would not stop them from wanting to see each other again.

The brothers had a strong bond even though their personalities were complete opposites. Sometimes, they frustrated the living daylights out of each other, but that didn't change the fact that they were still brothers. Other than that one major rough patch in their history in 1812 (which was really just another disagreement between America and England that Canada had gotten dragged into), they got along fairly well. They still had their disagreements, but at some point in their lives they had both realized that, geographically speaking, they were stuck with each other whether they liked it or not. Therefore, they figured that they might as well _attempt_ to keep peace.

"So why are you here anyway?" America interrupted Canada's thoughts with his sudden question. "You usually send a note before you come for a visit."

"Eh? Oh, I almost forgot!" Canada dropped the streamer he was working on and looked up at America. "Something incredible just happened back home! I had to tell someone about it, and you were the first person I thought of. I couldn't wait to send a letter, so I rushed right over."

"Give me a break!" America snorted. "Nothing big ever happens at your place. How exciting could it be? Oooh, I got it! England finally kicked all the Frenchies out, didn't he?"

"No!" Canada replied with slight anger. He hadn't even made his big announcement yet, and already his brother was belittling it! Right when Canada was working up the nerve to chew his sibling out, the subject was changed.

"Hey, does England even know you're here? Wouldn't want you to get in trouble for fraternizing with the 'bad influence' again."

Canada could just _hear_ the grin on America's face when he added that last part. It was almost as if his brother was proud that England considered him to be the family black sheep. One of the reasons England had been trying to keep Canada away from America was because he had been afraid that America's dominating personality would influence the meeker Canadian. In a way, it already had. The Revolutionary War had not exactly been an enjoyable experience for Canada, either. While England and America had fought, Canada had felt caught in the middle. He had ached for England's pain when America finally split from him. Yet, somewhere deep in his heart, there was a tiny part of him that was happy for his brother. A tiny part that had been cheering him on the entire time. A tiny part that realized that _he_ wanted a little more freedom as well. Just a little. Was that too much to ask? Canada had to smile to himself now because he knew that because of that small part of him that maybe his brother had brought out, things were about to change.

"I…I don't need Arthur's permission to come over here anymore," Canada said slowly.

"Hm? Why not?"

"Because I…well, I'm on my own now," Canada spoke softly. He finally said it. It was the first time he had said it out-loud. Those words sounded so strange coming out of his own mouth. It still seemed unbelievable.

"What?"

"I said that I'm my own nation now," Canada spoke up a little louder. Whoa. Now that really sounded weird. Canada almost felt like he was speaking a different language. "That's what I wanted to tell you."

America stopped working. For a second or two, he was silent. Canada didn't know what he was thinking. Maybe he was taking it in. All of a sudden, Canada heard him give a little laugh and saw him continue his work.

"Very funny," America chuckled. "Now what did you really want to tell me?"

The reaction stunned Canada. He had come all this way to share his historical moment with his brother and America didn't believe him! He probably should have seen that coming, but still...

"That was it."

"No way," America replied again in a "You're not fooling me," tone.

"I'm serious!" America's scoffing and skeptical attitude was beginning to really aggravate Canada. "Why would I joke about that?"

America got quiet again. He looked down at Canada with a confused expression.

"You really mean it?"

"Yes, of course I really mean it," Canada said as firmly as he could manage.

Before Canada knew what was happening, his brother was on the ground in front of him. America had dropped what he was doing and had slid down the ladder like lightening. Luckily, Canada had been quick enough to jump back so his brother wouldn't crash into him when he landed. As soon as America's feet had hit the ground he had turned and grabbed his bewildered, Canadian counterpart by the shoulders.

"When did _this_ happen?" America demanded to know.

"T-t-today," Canada choked out with a wince as his brother's grip tightened. He hadn't expected his brother to freak out like this. America was shouting at him, but Canada couldn't tell if it was from shock or anger.

"Today?" America shrieked. "That's impossible! You're telling me you became a country all in _one day_?"

"N-no, not exactly," Canada tried to remain calm. Maybe America would calm down too if he stayed composed. "It's been something I've been working on for a while."

"And I _missed it_?" America exclaimed with disappointment.

"I…uh…" Canada wasn't sure how to respond.

"_Mattie_!" America whined. "You should have told me! I could have helped you out!"

"Er…how…I mean—Wah!"

America began to forcefully turn Canada around in a circle and look him over.

"Hm. Guess you didn't need my help. You don't have a scratch!" Canada tried to speak up here, but he was silenced with a hearty slap on the back. "I'm impressed, Matt. You must have totally dominated!" America rattled on while Canada made a few more weak attempts to correct his brother's assumptions.

"Ah, Alfred. I-I think you have the wrong idea—"

"Well, I gotta say, I always knew you had it in you, but I never really thought you would let it out."

"I'm sorry, but could you let me—"

"Shoot! I can't believe you got in a war with England and I missed out!"

"Al, you didn't really—"

"Wait a minute!" America suddenly grabbed Canada again. His face was anxious. "You didn't hurt England _too_ bad, did you?"

"No! No! It wasn't like that!" Canada was glad that he finally had a chance to talk. "There wasn't a war, or fighting, or anything like that."

America released Canada. He looked as if his brain was having trouble comprehending Canada's explanation.

"What do you mean? If you didn't fight England, then how did you—"

"I asked him."

America stared blankly at Canada.

"You asked him?"

"Um-hm."

Silence.

"Seriously? You just _asked_ him?"

"Yeah."

"And he actually said _yes_?"

"Well…not exactly," Canada clarified. "Not the first time, anyway. The first time I brought it up, he said no." (Actually, England's exact words had been much stronger, but Canada, being even more of a gentlemen than England was, decided against repeating them out-loud.) "But I kept negotiating with him, and he finally said yes!" Canada was quite proud of his diplomatic persistence.

"You're kidding!" A huge grin appeared on America's face—partly because he was happy for his brother, but mostly because he thought the whole account was extremely humorous. Asking nicely for permission to strike out on his own would be so typical of his brother. But what really amazed America was that England had given in!

"I can't believe that actually worked!"

"I know, eh? I can't believe it either!" Canada was just as amazed as America.

"You lucked out, Bro! The old man must be getting soft." Immediately, America's mind began coming up with ways he could tease England about this the next time he saw him. Oh, how the "Old Softy" would get it! Canada just shrugged, unaware of his sibling's mischievous thoughts.

"Perhaps, but when you think about it—"

"Wait!" America held a hand up to shush Canada. "Something's missing here."

"What?" Canada questioned, but America didn't look at Canada. He was in deep thought. Finally, he turned to his brother with a dead serious look on his face and gave him the answer. It was spoken barely above a whisper:

"Fireworks."

"Pardon?" Canada ventured nervously.

America grabbed Canada and pointed a finger dramatically to the sky.

"WE NEED FIREWORKS!"

* * *

End of part 1. I'll add more details on the history behind all this later!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

After declaring their apparent desperate need for fireworks as if it was a national emergency, America dashed out of the house and nearly yanked the reluctant Canadian's arm off in the process. Canada found himself being dragged to a shed at the back of his brother's house. The entire way there, America was excitedly going on about how they were going to raid his private stash of explosives and haul them back to Canada's home for a real birthday party (Or something like that. The cause for celebration had invoked America's hyper-active mode, so Canada was having a hard time understanding his rapid speech). When they reached their destination, America let go of his brother's hand and threw open the shed doors. He dove inside the cluttered building, but Canada hung back. He leaned on the open door to catch his breath and tried to reason with his hasty companion.

"Alfred, we really don't have to make a big deal about this."

"Why not?" America threw back. "This _is_ a big deal!"

"But I don't want to act like it is!" Canada tried to search for the right words while America searched through boxes. "It would be like I'm bragging. What would Arthur think if he saw me throwing a big celebration two minutes after he let me become a nation?"

"Why should you care about what he thinks? He _let_ you go, didn't he? Besides, the whole 'in your face' part of it is half the fun!"

"Alfred, please!" Canada was beginning to panic. "Try to understand. I-I don't want to upset Arthur. I want to stay on good terms with him."

America sighed loudly.

"Ok, ok, fine. Look, if it makes you feel any better, we can shoot them off here instead," he offered.

Canada still felt unsure.

"I don't know…"

"I do," America said firmly. As he turned back to inspecting the boxes, he switched to his happy-go-lucky mood again and tried to ease his brother's worries. "It will be fine. Trust me! Having a birthday is no fun if you don't get to celebrate it!"

Canada sighed and stepped into the shed. He figured he wouldn't be able to talk America out of the fireworks, but at least he had convinced him to keep them away from his own home.

_He really should clean this place out. Things are starting to pile up._

Canada thought to himself as he navigated his way through the unorganized storage. America was kneeling on the floor, opening boxes when Canada reached him. The Canadian looked over his brother's shoulder and studied the explosives.

"But, all the fireworks are in red, white, and blue," he pointed out. America didn't seem discouraged.

"If we hurry, we might be able to get some different colors," America suggested and stood up. "What are the colors on your flag?"

"Uh…um…I don't actually have a flag, yet," Canada confessed.

"_Huh_? You're an official nation and you don't have a flag?" America asked in amazement.

Canada timidly shrugged. He honestly hadn't even thought about making a flag, yet. America smacked himself on the face. How could his brother have forgotten a flag?

"Oh well," America groaned out. "It would have been pretty hard to find fireworks that aren't red, white, or blue, anyway."

"I thought so," Canada said. He wasn't too disappointed, though. Maybe America would give up now. "It's probably best to just forget—"

"Hey, here's an idea!" America interrupted once again. Apparently, he hadn't given up. "What if instead of using all the colors, we just use one or two of them? That would be different."

"How would we decide which colors to use?"

This time it was America's turn to shrug.

"Got me. It's _your_ birthday. Why don't you pick?"

"I don't want to just pick some random colors to represent me."

"It doesn't have to be random," America sat down and began pulling some fireworks out of a box. "Look, each color means something. Like…the red represents bloodshed," he held up a red rocket as an example.

"That's nice," Canada tried to be polite. "But I already told you there was no war. We can't use that one."

"Hmm," America studied the rocket. "Or can we?"

"What do you mean?"

America put the firework down and pulled a small knife out of his pocket.

"What are you doing with that?" Canada asked slowly, as America stood.

"All you have to do is shed some blood today, right?"

Canada did not like where this was going.

"You can't be serious!"

"Don't be a baby," America said as he walked towards Canada. "It doesn't have to be much. Just a little cut would count, right?"

He _was_ serious!

"Get away from me with that thing!" Canada ordered as he backed away. America chased him around the shed.

"Come on! What's the big deal?"

"Stop it, Alfred! This isn't funny!"

"What about a pin prick?"

"No!"

"A really bad paper-cut?"

"I'm going home!"

Canada ran for the door. He never should have come to see his brother today. He should have just kept his birthday to himself. He was almost out of the shed, but America wouldn't let him escape. Canada was tackled from behind and pinned to the ground.

"Get off of me!" Canada demanded.

He knew it! He knew America had never _really_ forgiven him for that one time he burned down his White House! He was probably taking this chance to get a little revenge. Canada was bracing himself for the knife, but instead he heard hysterical laughter over him.

"Re—_lax _!" America giggled. "It was just a joke!"

Canada was dumbfounded as his American brother released him. He rolled over and saw America return the knife to his pocket, all the while laughing like an idiot.

"You're sick," Canada finally whispered.

"Maybe, but I know you love me anyway!" America teased as he helped Canada up. "But seriously, it's too bad you didn't have at least _one_ battle. Do you have any idea how boring your history lessons about this day are gonna be? I feel sorry for the poor Canadian school children."

"It might be boring, but I'd pick boring over bloodshed any day," Canada gestured to the red rocket on the ground as he spoke.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," America ignored the annoyance in Canada's voice. He was still chuckling a little as he picked up the discarded explosive. "And by the way, the red doesn't just stand for bloodshed. I think it also represents courage."

Canada sighed.

"We defiantly can't use red, then."

"What are you talking about?" America spoke with renewed enthusiasm. "I think it's perfect!"

"Eh?"

"Think about it. You actually asked _England_ for your freedom! That had to take guts!"

"But I didn't feel very brave when I did it," Canada admitted. "To tell the truth, I was really nervous."

"But you still did it. And that's why we're keeping red!"

"If you say so."

Canada didn't feel like arguing. He might as well let his brother pick the colors. After all, America was the only one who wanted to do this. Canada sighed again. He really didn't see himself as brave. Sure, he had done a few things that some might consider courageous. Fighting in the war of 1812 might be one thing, but Canada was just trying to protect his people. He wasn't being brave. He was just…doing what he had to do. He was always able to do things like fight when he _had_ to, but he didn't see that as bravery. It was duty. In Canada's mind, he thought that if he was really brave, he would be able to do things like stand up for himself when a certain brother was forcing him to do something he really didn't feel comfortable doing.

"Want to use another color?" America asked.

"I don't know," Canada replied automatically. He really didn't care. He glanced at the white rockets. "What does the white stand for?"

"I think it stands for purity."

"Purity…" Canada said the word as he considered it. He was about to ask America about the blue, when America suddenly exploded.

"Hey, great pick! That totally fits you!"

"Um, are you sure?" Canada asked hesitantly.

"Yeah! You're like, the most pure-hearted guy I know! You hate fighting, you're always trying to keep the peace, you're super polite, and you're so patient (I mean, who else would have been able to put up with England this long?), you love nature, you never say anything harsh…."

America went on forever. Canada didn't know what to say. He wasn't used to complements. He had never been praised so much in one setting. Wait. Had he ever been praised at all? If he had been, it was a rare occurrence. No one ever seemed to care much about him, not even England. Between him and his brother, America had always been the one who got all the attention and praise. Canada knew that there didn't seem to be much that was special about him when he was compared to his brother. America himself was always bragging about how much cooler he was from Canada, yet now he was going down an endless list of everything that made Canada pure and good. It was enough to make Canada blush with embarrassment. He knew he wasn't a saint, but America was sure making it sound like he was.

"O-ok, that's enough!" he finally burst out. "I'm not…I mean…you don't have to…"

America smiled.

"And you're modest, too," he playfully finished before turning back to the fireworks in front of him. "Plus, these two colors work out because the red and white pattern is supposed to stand for the separation and independence from England."

"Oh," Canada could see that he would have to clarify something more. "But I'm not _exactly_ separated from Arthur."

"What do you mean? I thought you said England gave you your independence."

"No I didn't. I said that he recognized me as a nation—well, more of a dominion, actually…it's kind of complicated," Canada stumbled over his explanation. "I am independent, in a way, I guess. I can take care of myself without Arthur's help. And I'm free to govern myself for the most part, but he still has some limited control over me. I think he'll have less control over time, though."

"But if you're not independent of England, then what's the point of…then how…why…" America was more confused now than ever. "Oh, never mind!" He finally said in exasperation. He would never understand his brother! He decided to just let it go. Nation. Dominion. Whatever! America would take it. This was probably as close to independence as Canada was going to get, anyway. It would work for now. Why ruin the celebration? After America had gotten himself all hyped up for fireworks, he was not about to back down now.

"We'll strike the separation thing, then. You can pick your own meanings for the colors, for all I care," America told Canada as he shut the boxes and gathered them up.

"No. The other meanings are fine for now," Canada decided.

"Well, _that_ took long enough!" America tossed a large box to Canada as he spoke. "Help me carry these," with that, America impatiently rushed outside with a box under each arm.

"Wait!" Canada called after him. He was going to make one more attempt to change his brother's mind. "I'm still not sure about this. What if someone sees us?"

"So what?"

"So they'll think the fireworks are for you. Wouldn't people think we're being a little silly shooting them off this early?"

"Who cares what other people think?" (Not America) "It's a free country! We could shoot off Independence Day fireworks in December if we wanted to!"

Canada still hesitated.

"Come on! What are you waiting for?"

"Well…i-if you're sure it won't be any trouble…"

America dropped the boxes he was carrying and crossed his arms at Canada. He couldn't believe what he was hearing! How much longer was his brother going to stall his own birthday party?

"It's not _trouble_. It's _fun_!" America said slowly and deliberately. He then pointed forcefully to the spot next to him and added: "Now get your lazy, Canadian butt out here and _enjoy yourself_!"

* * *

Author's notes:

A quick note about the last chapter, the idea of Canada asking England for permission to become a nation is kind of loosely based on a comic called "Canada's Favor" on Deviantart. Check it out if you haven't. It's awesome! There is also a great vid of the comic on youtube that goes into more historical detail, by immatthewian!

Oh, and I have to point out that even though this is mostly about Canada, it was written by an American. I did a lot of research on Canada Day, and I tried my best to stay true to the Hetalia characters, but if I wrote anything that offends my Canadian brothers, I apologize. I LOVE you guys, and no offense was intended at all!

After I read about some of the history of Canada, I can see why Himaruya pegged Mattie as a slowpoke. According to what I read, the dominion of Canada was formed in 1867, but no official celebrations were held until 1917. England also still had control of Canada's foriegn for the longest time after 1867. Canadian history defiantly seems to move at a more leisurely pace compared to American history. I could just see Canada telling America about his birthday, and America being all "Let's Celebrate!" and Canada being all "Do we _have_ too?"

And about the flag colors, I have no idea if they mean anything. I could not find any info on that, so I went with the American meanings for the colors since they seemed to fit Canada.

This story, along with others, can also be read on my Deviantart account (4TheFunOfIt)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Reluctantly, Canada came out of the shed and followed his brother. America took him to an open field not far from the house, where they started setting up the fireworks. America came up with an idea to link all the rockets together so that they would only have to light them once. The fireworks were dumped out of the boxes and lined up in a gigantic, elaborate pattern on the ground. America had to return to the shed for more fireworks at one point. Canada was more than satisfied with the amount of fireworks they had, but America was insistent that they needed more. While he was gone, Canada made a few adjustments to ones they had already set up.

In spite of how unnecessary Canada thought this was, he found that he was actually starting to look forward to launching the fireworks. He didn't get many chances to play with things like that at home. The loud, popping noises made England edgy. Canada didn't really understand it, but apparently it all had something to do with some other colony of England's that would always mischievously shoot off firecrackers right next to him without warning.

BAM!

A loud explosion of sound bursted without warning right behind poor Canada. The syrup-loving nation screamed and nearly jumped out of his skin. He ducked for cover. The explosion died down quickly and laughter replaced it. Canada looked up to see his brother laughing his head off again. America had just returned from the shed and had decided to play another joke on his unsuspecting twin.

"I got you!" he shouted triumphantly. "You should have seen your face!"

Canada calmly straightened his glasses, went back to what he was doing, and tried to ignore America. He got the feeling that his brother might get along well with that other defiant colony he had been thinking about. When America calmed down, they added the new fireworks to the others. America kept trying to rush the process. He wanted to make sure they finished before it got too dark. Canada had to remind him that they should take enough time to make sure they set everything up the right way. Between the two of them, they managed to get the rockets set up efficiently and creatively. They finished just in time for the sunset. They were both tired, but proud of their work.

"What now?" Canada asked. America responded by handing him a small box of matches.

"Here you go! Since it's your big day, you get to do the honors."

"Ok," Canada said as he shyly took the matches. On the inside, he was trembling with excitement. This might turn out to be fun. He lit a match and held it to the fuse.

"NO!" America shouted before tackling Canada for the second time that day. The match and the fuse were extinguished. Canada had to fight to contain his rage.

"What?" he yelled as he pushed America off him.

"What do you think you're doing?" America demanded.

"I'm just lighting it like you told me!" Canada threw back.

"Not like that!" America groaned. "You can't light fireworks without doing a count-down first!" America gave Canada a look that said, "Don't you know anything about how to shoot off fireworks?" Canada felt like strangling him.

"What in the name of Maple is a count-down?" he asked in frustration. America sighed and carefully outlined the "proper procedure" for firework launching to the Canadian beginner.

"Listen, before you light the fuse, you have to count backwards from ten. When you get down to one, you light it, and when the rocket shoots up, you have to shout, 'BLAST OFF!'" America threw his arms in the air and held the pose. He was looking at Canada like he was expecting some sort of reaction. Canada was looking at America as if his brother had a screw loose somewhere.

"You've got to be kidding," Canada finally stated.

"No, really! It's fun!" America insisted. "Come on, I'll do it with you." America lit a new match and gave it to Canada. "Go on! You start."

"Do I have too?"

"Better hurry up, or you're gonna to burn yourself."

"_Ten_," Canada said through gritted teeth.

"Nine," America responded and gave Canada his cue to continue.

"Eight."

"Seven," the pace picked up. The rest was said in unison.

"Six, five, four, three, two, one!" Canada was barely able to get the fuse lit before the flame reached his fingers. The two quickly stepped back and watched the launch. The rocket shot up into the sky.

"BLAST OFF!" America shouted! Canada had forgotten about that part, but he did shout, "WOW!" when that first firework exploded in a brilliant red against the black curtain of the night. The dark sky quickly lit up with more bright lights. Beautiful red and white sparkles danced above the excited duo. America was jumping around like a little kid. He shook Canada's shoulder every now and then and said things like, "Look at 'em go!" and "Whoa! Did you see that one? Did you?" Canada just sat in quiet awe of the bright display. He simply nodded in acknowledgment of America's exclamations with an ear to ear grin on his own face. It was so beautiful. And it was all for him. The Canadian felt humbled and embarrassed to have such an amazing show put on in his honor…but it also made him feel really happy.

Time passed. America wore himself out, and before long both brothers were relaxing on the cool grass and enjoying the last of the fireworks.

"This is depressing," America suddenly spoke up.

"Depressing?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you an all, but I just realized that this means you can't be a part of the U.S."

Canada rolled his eyes. Joining the U.S. and becoming a State had been something that America had tried to pressure him to do in the past.

"Ah well. It's for the best, I guess," America conceded as he sat up and stretched. "So, birthday boy, how does it feel to be a nation?"

Canada sat up as well and hugged his knees.

"I'm not sure. I was already self-sufficient before today, so right now I don't feel like much has changed. Also, a lot of my people still see themselves as being British. It might take a while for everyone to get used to the idea," Canada kept his eyes on the fireworks as he talked. He wondered if the day would ever come when he would feel comfortable celebrating his birthday in the same way America celebrated his. Would his people or the world ever _truely_ accept him as an individual nation? He really hoped so.

America studied his brother who seemed to be in deep thought.

"Well, you might not be on the same level as me, but you do come close. And until your people wise up to how awesome you are and how much fun it is to not be British, you can just come over here and celebrate your big day with me every year!"

Canada was in too good of a mood to feel insulted by the first comment. He knew his brother well enough to know that he was trying to be nice in his own clumsy way.

"That's very kind of you."

"No problem! Hey, maybe we could even celebrate both of our birthdays together!"

"Together?"

"Yeah, how awesome would that be? We could have one huge party for both of us! There would be twice as many presents, twice as much cake, twice as many fireworks, and…twice as…"

Canada looked over at his brother as his voice trailed off.

"What's wrong?"

America jumped up from his place on the ground with a panicked expression.

"Don't go anywhere!" he gestured for Canada to stay put. "I'll be right back!"

Before Canada could say a word, America was halfway back to the house. Canada was puzzled. What could have come over America this time? Canada debated following his brother, but he decided to just wait like America had told him to do. The fireworks weren't quite done, and Canada could always question America when he came back. But America stayed gone for quite a while. Canada began to worry when he didn't come back for the big finale they had set up, which he had said was crucial to a fireworks display. Canada sat alone for a few minutes with nothing but the moon for a light. He was about to head back against his brothers orders when he heard footsteps behind him. America looked disheveled and out of breath as he ran up to Canada. He held his hands behind his back for some reason. Canada was going to ask him why he had run off like that, but America lashed out at Canada before he had the chance.

"This is all _your_ fault!" he accused.

"What is?" Canada was clueless.

"Why didn't you tell me you were planning on asking England for your own 'dominion' or whatever?"

"I…I didn't think—"

"You could have at least given me more time!"

"More time for what?" Canada pleaded to know. "Alfred, I don't know what you're talking about."

America glared at Canada one last time before he held a package out to him with one hand.

"More time to get a better gift, for one thing," he mumbled.

Canada stared in surprise at the hastily wrapped gift America was offering him. He had not expected that.

"Alfred…you didn't have to—"

"You can't have birthday without a birthday present, right?" America interrupted and shoved the package into Canada's hands before he could refuse. "Although, a little warning would have been nice," he added.

Canada was so taken aback that he just stood there, looking at the birthday present in his hands as if he was not sure what to do with it.

"Well, are ya gonna open it or not?" America prompted. That seemed to snap Canada out of it.

"Oh, right!" he said before quickly tearing the paper off of the gift. However, once he unwrapped it, all he could do was stare at it again.

"What is it?" he felt rude for asking, but in the dim light he just couldn't figure it out.

"It's a hat, genius," America informed. "It's called a Stetson."

"Oh I see now. Yes, I remember seeing you wear a hat like this a few times. But this one seems a little…" Canada could have ended his sentence with many words: dirty, worn-out, smelly, but none of those sounded very appreciative.

"That's because it's my old hat," America said with a sigh. "I know it's a lousy gift, but I like said, that's your fault. You didn't give me time to look for a good present. I combed the entire house, but I couldn't find anything I had that I thought you might want! I finally settled on the hat. Saw it sitting on my desk and I knew it would at least fit you since we're both the same size."

Canada nodded and the brothers stood in awkward silence for a moment.

"That was my lucky hat, ya know," America said at last. "It might look bad, but those things are tough. That one still has a lot of wear left in it, trust me. With everything that's been going on, I don't get to use it as much as I'd like to, so…ya know…you can have it if you want."

America was doing his best to sound like giving up the hat would be no big deal, but Canada caught the attachment he had to it in his voice. Canada couldn't believe that his brother was willing to give him something as special as his old lucky cowboy hat. Suddenly, a revelation came to Canada and he felt himself tearing up against his will. America freaked out when he saw Canada wipe at his eyes.

"Oh man! Don't tell me it's _that_ bad! Look Mattie, you don't have to keep it if you don't want it. I could give you cash...but you'd only be able to use it here…or you could just tell me what you want and I'll get it for you. You'd have to wait till tomorrow, but really, anything you want! You name it!"

Canada laughed a little and tried to console his brother.

"No. It's not that. The hat's fine. I just realized…this is my first birthday present," he paused briefly before donning the hat with a proud smile. "I really like it. Thanks, Alfred."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I've always sort of liked your western styles, so this is perfect."

America brightened up. He really did want his brother to have a good first birthday. Then he suddenly realized that he could do better than just one silly old cowboy hat!

"You could have some of my clothes and boots too, if you want," he quickly offered. "Now that I think about it, I've got about a dozen cartloads of wild west junk you could go through—You just can't have my guns…or my sheriff badge. I'd kind of like to keep those. But anything else, you can have at it!"

After all, the cowboy culture had been growing since the war had ended. Things like western wear and the Stetson were becoming more popular. America figured he could easily replace anything Canada took. Once America had more time on his hands, he was planning on doing some unwinding out west with the rest of his restless men. Maybe he could even convince Canada to join him for some of the adventure! Canada would not have a good reason to refuse if he had some western gear of his own.

"Sounds great!" Canada said with another smile.

"Awesome! Well if you like that, I hope you like this too. Time for the cake!" America took his other arm out from behind his back and held up a small plate.

"Al…that's a muffin…smothered in syrup," Canada corrected. The "cake" America had produced was actually a small muffin that he had drenched with maple syrup and pierced with a little birthday candle.

"_Again_, thanks to a _certain secretive someone_, I didn't have time to get a _real_ cake," America reminded Canada. "I can't even make one because I already used up all the batter and icing for my own cake."

Canada laughed and took the plate from the pouting American.

"That's ok. This is fine," he did like maple syrup on just about anything.

"Ooh! I just remembered!" America shouted and then grinned as if he was sure Canada was going to like what he was about to say. "I may not have a cake, but I'm way overstocked on ice cream!"

Canada beamed. He loved ice cream almost as much as his brother. Ice cream was the best desert in the world. That was one thing they _both_ agreed on.

"Ice cream would be perfect!"

"What are we doing out here, then?" America said as he wrapped his arm over his brother's shoulder pointed homeward. "To the ice shed!"

America kept his arm on Canada as the two marched back to the house together. Canada munched happily on his "birthday cake" as they walked. Then America began to cheerfully hum the happy birthday song, which caused Canada to think about his brother's upcoming birthday. Canada thought about everything America was doing for him and he wished that he had thought to bring the gift that he had prepared for his brother's birthday. It was only a few days away. He should have brought the present. He would have felt a lot more comfortable accepting everything from America if he had had something to give to him as well. All of a sudden, thinking about his brother's birthday made Canada realize something.

"I just had a thought."

"What?"

"If my birthday is on July 1st, and yours is July 4th, does that make me the oldest now?"

America had a good laugh over that. Canada had to stop and wait for him to quit laughing before they could continue. America had always been the self-proclaimed big brother. Canada should have known that America would not take the idea of him being the older twin seriously.

"Yeah _right!_" America scoffed when he could speak again. "That was a good one! Now come on! I can hear the ice cream calling me!"

_Let it go. Think about the ice cream._

Canada told himself when he was tempted to smack the oblivious America. The incident was soon forgotten. The rest of the night was a party to remember. The boys had all the ice cream they could eat and stayed up until the wee hours of the morning just having some good, old-fashioned guy time. Just before the two were about to collapse from exhaustion, America slapped Canada on the back and congratulated him one last time.

"Happy Birthday, Bro," he said sleepily.

"Thanks," Canada yawned back.

That was the last thing either one remembered. Years and years later, although his brother's birthday still got most of the attention, Canada was finally able to openly celebrate his own birthday in his own home with his own people. America's suggestion of celebrating their birthdays together even came true when a festival was created to do just that. Canada had a great time every year, but he never forgot his first birthday.

The End!

* * *

Author's notes: I had America give Canada a cowboy hat for his birthday because in case any of my fellow Americans don't know, Canada has its own Cowboy Capital in Calgary. From what I've read, Canada was always a good land for raising cattle, but Canadian cowpokes got most of their cowboy culture from an awesome American Cowboy named John Ware who settled down in Canada in 1882. According to legend, he invented steer wrestling that is held as an event in the Calgary Stampede today. So yeah, this story is a little before his time, but it shows that Canada has a cowboy side too.

I also learned that fireworks are used for Canada Day celebrations today and that there is a time when America's and Canada's birthday are celebrated together! It called the Friendship Festival and it's held in the town of Fort Erie, I think. I wish I could go!

And thanks to KitakLaw for finding out the real meanings of the colors on Canada's flag! Red=British heritage. White=French heritage. Yay! Now we know, and knowing is half the battle! ;)

This story and others can also be found on my Deviantart account (4TheFunOfIt).


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